Help Me - Short Story
Can I even continue at this point? Maybe... Yes? No? Yes. I must. But I can't. Thoughts swirling. Mind hurting. Not just the mind. Everything. A thousand words. That's the scene. An image of (*V#RIUb3rv_), sitting there. Me. Why me. Why poor (*V#RIUb3rv_). Two thousand words. Hatred. Safety inside? No. No more. The words to write won't come. Connotation, denotation. Help. LEGISLATION. These words would just hurt to write. A day. My problems won't last a day.
"(*V#RIUb3rv_) should die!"
"(*V#RIUb3rv_), stop it!" after I've done nothing wrong at all.
"You lazy idiot, (*V#RIUb3rv_)."
What did I do.
I'm stuck here.
Leaving would be terrible. Streets. No home. I don't know if anyone would accept me. Probably not. Definitely not. I'm a convict in my own home. Small room. Sitting. Insults thrown.
Ideas come. (*V#RIUb3rv_), you aren't smart. But you are cunning. They seemed to have left. I unlock the room and bolt out. Hiding from them. My safe haven. Disagreement between people. The four or so blankets I have on my bed. Puddles. Plumbers. Pillows.
I find my phone. Ah the phone. The thing that makes almost everyone's world go around. And the curse of this world at the same time. At least, the curse for them.
(*V#RIUb3rv_) nabs the phone. I can do this. (*V#RIUb3rv_) walks into the kitchen without being suspicious. Instead, they tell me to die. Memos. Record. (*V#RIUb3rv_) coughes a little. Almost on purpose, but that tingle really gets annoying.
My mind hurts. I'm sore. From them.
There's a box and some window cleaner. Wedging the phone in, hidden, (*V#RIUb3rv_) walks off.
Fuck, I need to bath or else she'll be mad.
(*V#RIUb3rv_) runs the bath. Oh goodness, how can I be safe bathing? I'll be there, naked, bare, unsafe, unshielded.
(*V#RIUb3rv_) closes the door. But do I bath?
At least I can feel a little more safe, like I always do when alone, bare. It's a weird feeling.
More comments, of course.
"Maybe I should come in, (*V#RIUb3rv_)!"
Fuck off.
Hopefully I've captured these comments with my phone...
But what if the battery dies? Or they find it? Oh no, that would be bad...
(*V#RIUb3rv_)... I believe in you...
She arrives home. It stops. I hear running, avoidance of being noticed still up.
I get out of the bath. With my towel on, I rush over to get my phone. Another few coughs. Stop.
Knowing my luck, I bet I caught nothing.
(*V#RIUb3rv_)...
Why must I? Will I? Can I? Would I? I should... but shouldn't...
I'm stuck with them.
These feelings...
One of them says that I'm going out with some of my friends...
When I'm not...
But I do care about one...
(*V#RIUb3rv_)... What are we going to do...
Can I leave?
(*V#RIUb3rv_) needs to leave.
I need to leave.
Connotation. Denotation. Health. Depleting. Safety. No more. Assigned tasks that I just can't complete. My mind just hurts.
Would anyone accept me?
Help me.
- (*V#RIUb3rv_)
- 8th
"(*V#RIUb3rv_) should die!"
"(*V#RIUb3rv_), stop it!" after I've done nothing wrong at all.
"You lazy idiot, (*V#RIUb3rv_)."
What did I do.
I'm stuck here.
Leaving would be terrible. Streets. No home. I don't know if anyone would accept me. Probably not. Definitely not. I'm a convict in my own home. Small room. Sitting. Insults thrown.
Ideas come. (*V#RIUb3rv_), you aren't smart. But you are cunning. They seemed to have left. I unlock the room and bolt out. Hiding from them. My safe haven. Disagreement between people. The four or so blankets I have on my bed. Puddles. Plumbers. Pillows.
I find my phone. Ah the phone. The thing that makes almost everyone's world go around. And the curse of this world at the same time. At least, the curse for them.
(*V#RIUb3rv_) nabs the phone. I can do this. (*V#RIUb3rv_) walks into the kitchen without being suspicious. Instead, they tell me to die. Memos. Record. (*V#RIUb3rv_) coughes a little. Almost on purpose, but that tingle really gets annoying.
My mind hurts. I'm sore. From them.
There's a box and some window cleaner. Wedging the phone in, hidden, (*V#RIUb3rv_) walks off.
Fuck, I need to bath or else she'll be mad.
(*V#RIUb3rv_) runs the bath. Oh goodness, how can I be safe bathing? I'll be there, naked, bare, unsafe, unshielded.
(*V#RIUb3rv_) closes the door. But do I bath?
At least I can feel a little more safe, like I always do when alone, bare. It's a weird feeling.
More comments, of course.
"Maybe I should come in, (*V#RIUb3rv_)!"
Fuck off.
Hopefully I've captured these comments with my phone...
But what if the battery dies? Or they find it? Oh no, that would be bad...
(*V#RIUb3rv_)... I believe in you...
She arrives home. It stops. I hear running, avoidance of being noticed still up.
I get out of the bath. With my towel on, I rush over to get my phone. Another few coughs. Stop.
Knowing my luck, I bet I caught nothing.
(*V#RIUb3rv_)...
Why must I? Will I? Can I? Would I? I should... but shouldn't...
I'm stuck with them.
These feelings...
One of them says that I'm going out with some of my friends...
When I'm not...
But I do care about one...
(*V#RIUb3rv_)... What are we going to do...
Can I leave?
(*V#RIUb3rv_) needs to leave.
I need to leave.
Connotation. Denotation. Health. Depleting. Safety. No more. Assigned tasks that I just can't complete. My mind just hurts.
Would anyone accept me?
Help me.
- (*V#RIUb3rv_)
- 8th